


The Space Left

by dailyexistentialcrisis



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 09:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dailyexistentialcrisis/pseuds/dailyexistentialcrisis
Summary: The Razor Crest feels empty without the kid.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	The Space Left

**Author's Note:**

> uh... so this is my first fic? this was written at 4:00am when I wanted to hurt so please excuse any errors. thanks!

The Razor Crest felt peaceful. Din looked out the window and into the black emptiness of space. Everything had finally settled down and he could breathe.

Now that his conflict with the lingering Imps had been resolved, he could begin to get his life back on track. He could fly his ship right back to Nevarro and petition Greef Karga for bounty pucks. 

Maybe he could leave bounty hunting. He didn’t want his life to go back to what it was like before the-

No. Everything’s fine; bounty hunting wasn’t so bad anyway, he told himself.

Din thought for a minute.

At this point, he wasn’t even sure where the surviving members of his covert had ended up. Well, that is if anyone besides the Armorer had survived.

No matter. He was a free man. He could do nearly anything with his life now. Maybe go back to Sorgan?

Din thought of Omera. She and the rest of the village had been kind to him and-

No. Not going to finish that thought. 

Or perhaps he could pick up Cara from Nevarro instead? Even if she wasn’t still there, surely Karga would know where to find her. 

Din sighed. 

The Razor Crest felt quiet. Din turned away from the window. He began punching in the coordinates to Nevarro. It would take a month to get there flying direct, but he had plenty of supplies left from-

He winced at the memory and mentally berated himself for allowing that train of thought. No matter, Nevarro was only a month away. 

He missed Cara. Well, Din missed her as much as anyone could a near stranger. Wait. Why did that idea hurt? It shouldn’t. She shouldn’t matter that much to him even if she was probably the only person in the whole kriffing galaxy he’d consider to be a friend. At least before he’d gone and screwed that up after he left with the kid without turning back because of the Imps and the fear and the-

Stop. What was that? Was that regret he was feeling?

And what about the kid? Would he be fine? Would Skywalker and the rest of his cult followers take care of him? Accept him?

Kriffing hell. It had only been a week and he was already going insane.

The Razor Crest felt lonely. The emptiness of it felt more unbearable than the vacuum of space before him, he thought, glancing back at the window. 

By chance, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass. Dark, aching eyes stared back at him, a thousand thoughts flitting through his mind like fire. Everything was burning and the ship was so quiet he could hardly breathe and- 

As his breaths became more frantic and shallow, Din struggled to stay upright. He needed to calm himself. He forced his breathing to slow down. 

Din began to cry. Hot tears dripped down his cheeks. He opened his mouth and screamed. The tears tasted bitter on his tongue.

What a pitiful sight he made. A battle-hardened Mandalorian warrior sobbing to himself in the confines of this now stifling prison he once called a ship. He had done what any other Mandalorian would’ve been proud to do. He had fulfilled his duty. That was the way. 

He had safely delivered the Child to his people. They would help him find his way. They could be the ones to guide him where Din could not.

But no matter how hard he tried, the Mandalorian could not get that look of betrayal out of his mind- the look the kid had given him when he realized he was leaving. A traitorous voice in the back of his head told him that he’d gone back for the kid once and could do it again...

How could Din feel so empty when he had finally done the right thing?

Enough, he thought, meandering off to his cot. 

-

An hour later, the Razor Crest was released from its silence as Din Djarin once again cried himself to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Cool. Thanks for reading :’)


End file.
